Step (6 page)

"Like I said," she whispered, "my family is a hot mess of crazy."

I realized she had misinterpreted my silence as disapproval. I brushed my knuckles down her cheek. "You're a good person. You love your brother. That's all that matters."

"To you, maybe." She dropped her gaze, and my damned chest ached, my heart slamming into my ribcage at the realization that she had spent so many years having people look down on her for family's bad choices that she automatically expected everyone to call her trash or worse.

I slid my fingers under her chin and tipped her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Right now, my opinion is the only one that matters. You've shown me that you're a good person, Jemima. I believe what people show me."

Not wanting her to feel badly about anything she had just told me, I confessed, "When I was a kid, I used to run pickups for an Albanian bookie. I got it into my head that I could start running my own book on the side. Let's just say that didn’t go over well, and I damn near got clipped one night. If it hadn't been for my brother and Ten, my cousin, I would have ended up in a cement foundation or tossed off a boat somewhere off the coast of Galveston."

"When I was a little girl, my dad got into some trouble with the cartel. He took something he shouldn't have." She drew a slow finger across her throat. "No one was ever arrested for it, but we knew."

"I'm sorry, Jem." I couldn't even imagine the horrors she had probably witnessed as a child. The urge to protect her flared hot and steady. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and run away with her, take her back to my apartment and keep her safe there.

Too fast. You're moving too fast. Get a grip. You just met this girl.

But as I gazed down at her, I knew. I fucking
knew
that she was the one.

Fifty years from now, I was going to tell our grandkids about the day I had embarrassed myself in front of their grandmother by letting her find me passed out drunk in a trashed hotel room—and the way she had treated me kindly. I would tell them that was the moment I had decided she was the one I had been waiting for all these years.

So fuck it. Fast and hard had always served me well.

Today? I was going after Jemima—and nothing would stop me.

Chapter Four

Jem

Weirdest. Day. Ever.

I glanced to my left and couldn't believe that Step was down on his hands and knees scrubbing the dirty dining room floor with a microfiber cloth. When I had tried to clean up the mess in the bedroom, he had flipped out and ordered me into the parlor area to tackle the mess in there. At first, I had been bewildered by his reaction, but then I had recognized the shame darkening his green eyes.

Cleaning the suite in a bathrobe had felt weird at first, but the work had to be done so I had learned to deal with it. Not that Step fit the part of housekeeper any better! He looked utterly ridiculous rocking black leather pants while he attacked that stain and yet somehow also intensely sexy.

As if sensing my stare, he glanced at me and flashed a sinful smile. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, I turned my attention to the dining table I was resetting with replacement china from the supply cupboard. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and a throbbing pulse centered between my thighs. I had been kissed plenty of times in my twenty-one years but that kiss in the shower? That one single kiss had obliterated every other kiss from my memory.

I couldn't even imagine what he was like in bed. If one kiss made my knees knock together and my stomach wobble, sex would probably kill me. My sexual experience was meager compared to his. One boyfriend and two attempts at sex had been enough for me to swear it off. Then I had taken custody of Benji and all hopes for a social life had been demolished. Trying to raise a teenager while I was a teenager took every single ounce of energy I had.

But as I started pushing a microfiber mop around the vast swaths of marble and hardwood, I found myself craving some real adult interaction. Step's kisses and his touch had relit the passionate fire that had been snuffed out by a hard life and hard work. He made me feel things I didn't know I was capable of feeling.

And yet I couldn't quite trust him.

I had discovered him naked and face-down in a puddle of his own mess after spending the night with a trio of hard-partying girls. Judging by the looks of the suite and the antics Diego had described, those girls had had more fun than Step. I almost felt bad that he had spent his thirtieth birthday passed out on the floor.

Almost.

"What are you thinking about that has you so quiet?" Step used his uncommon height to easily fix the drapes. "Are you rethinking our date?"

"No." From this vantage point, I had the perfect view of his unbelievably hot body. He had outrageously muscled arms and a well-defined chest. My gaze travelled along his tattooed stomach to the dangerous dip in the front of his pants. There was no mistaking the outline of his cock tucked to the left. Panicked visions of that monstrous thing trying to impale me sent a quiver of fear through my belly.

"Good." He adjusted the folds of the fabric and thankfully seemed oblivious to me ogling him. He unlocked the French doors leading out to the balcony and began collecting the trash out there. When he returned with the whole mess of cans and bottles and other refuse in his arms, he shot me a concerned look. "Is it okay for me to toss all of this in the trash?"

I understood what he was asking. "Dude, hiding a handful of burnt out blunts in a garbage bag is probably the
least
worst thing I've had to toss in one these rooms."

He didn't seem to find that amusing. "Some people are dicks." My eyebrows arched, and he looked suddenly chagrined. "Yes, present company included," he amended. Then, more seriously, he said, "Jemima, I wasn't smoking dope last night. I did a lot of stupid things, but I wasn't on drugs."

That was some small consolation. "So that whole mess in there?" I gestured to the master bedroom as he dumped his load of trash into the garbage can attached to my cart. "Are you a binge-drinker?"

"No, I'm just incredibly dumb." He moved around the cart and took the mop out of my hand. "I enjoy a drink now and then, but last night was the first time in years that I've gotten wasted like that." His jaw hardened. "I'm not my father."

That got my attention. "What does that mean?"

"He was an alcoholic."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

He shrugged in a nonchalant way that I instantly recognized as a defensive maneuver. "He was weak."

"He was human," I corrected. "We all make mistakes, Step." I pointed to the bedroom where I had discovered him passed out on the floor. "Even you."

"And you?" He studied me for an unnerving moment. "What was the last mistake you made?"

Not liking the intense turn this discussion had taken, I joked, "Taking this room assignment."

Step stunned me by slipping his arm around my waist and hauling me close. He dipped his head and smiled. "Give me a little more time. I'll change your mind."

His lips were on mine again, and I clutched at his arms. He didn't need more time to change my mind. In fact, I was thanking my lucky stars that Juanita had given me this suite. I didn't know what was happening between us but I liked it. The illicit thrill of what I was doing rocked me to the very core. This wasn't me. I wasn't the girl who did crazy things like this but I couldn't find a single good reason to stop him, not yet.

He took his time loving my mouth, flicking his tongue against mine and then sucking gently on the tip. I would have dropped to the floor if Step hadn't been holding me up. Those powerful arms of his easily supported my body. I shivered when his lips moved along my jawline. He pushed aside the lapels of the robe and skimmed his lips down the curve of my throat.

When he tried to kiss my breast, I gently pushed his head to the side and closed my robe. "No."

He stopped instantly. Though he seemed to be one of those alpha dominant types who enjoyed running the show, he respected my boundaries. Our gazes clashed as we exchanged heated breaths. "Did I—?"

"I'm at work," I interjected quickly. "We shouldn't be doing this."

I could tell he wasn't thrilled with that answer, but he nodded and stood up straight. "I shouldn't have pushed."

I bravely reached for his hand. "It's just the wrong time."

Step smiled and lifted my fingers for a sweet kiss. "I can wait for the right one."

"Well," I gently tugged my hand free, "you may be waiting a long time. I have two more suites and probably a dozen more rooms to clean before the end of my shifts."

"Jesus, Jem," he said with shock in his voice. "That's a lot of work for one little woman."

I bristled at that remark. "I'm not that little."

"What are you? Five flat?"

"Five-two," I replied. "Thank you very much."

He crossed his arms and laughed. "No wonder my neck is aching. I'm a full foot and three inches taller than you."

"Well, yeah, because you've got all that Russian DNA running through your veins."

He chuckled. "We aren't all big and tall." He paused. "Well, okay, in my family, we are."

"Do you have a large family here?" I asked as I headed for the bathroom to change back into my hopefully dry uniform.

"No. It's just me and my brother and our cousin." Step followed me into the neat and tidy bedroom but no farther. "We have a lot of friends here. The Russian community is pretty tight."

I slipped behind the door but left it cracked so we could talk. "How old were you when you came to this country?"

"Seven," he said, his voice taking on a faraway quality. "Talk about a culture shock!"

I didn't know enough about Russian politics or history to really understand what that meant. I had a vague idea of what it would have been like. "Did you speak English?"

"Only a very little," he said. "I got lucky and met Dom that first day of school. He was a big, rough bastard even back then. After he laid out the first kid who made fun of me, we were inseparable."

"He sounds like a good friend."

"He's the very best." His voice sounded louder, as if he had moved closer to the door. I glanced at the mirror and caught him peeking at me as I fastened the hooks of my bra. I held my breath when he pushed the door open and stepped into the bathroom. What was he up to now?

Step took down my uniform from the hook on the back of the door and rubbed the fabric between his hands. Satisfied it was dry, he walked toward me and carefully helped me into the dress. His huge hands looked so strange handling the tiny white buttons lining the front, but he showed a tremendous amount of finesse in the way he deftly slipped them into place. He fixed the collar and trailed a finger down my neck. "I wish you could feel how much I want to rip this off of you and throw you down onto the bed we just made."

I gulped at his frank admission.

"Would you like that?" Step slid his hand along the back of my neck and caressed my skin with slow swipes of his thumb.

"Yes," I admitted softly, "but I sure would hate to have to change those sheets again. Those tucked corners are a bitch to get right on these king size beds."

He chuckled low and rough and then captured my mouth in a long, slow kiss. "You're driving me fucking crazy,
rybka.
" He nuzzled our noses together. "You’ve got me cleaning floors and making beds and fixing drapes—and I don't think I've ever enjoyed spending this much time with a woman."

I smiled up at him. "We've set the bar pretty low for our first date."

"You're right. I'll cancel my plans to take you to Samovar. We'll hit up a drive-thru on the way to a round of miniature golf."

He was teasing me, and I loved it. "You're not the way I thought you would be."

"What do you mean?" His thumb swept along the curve of my lower lip.

"I've been listening to your songs for years, and I've sort of followed your career through Benji. I had this idea of what type of person you would be. Then I found you on the floor this morning, and you were kind of a jerk to me, and I was sure you were going to be an asshole."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "I deserve that."

"Maybe," I said uncertainly, suddenly doubting my judgment of him. I had no doubt that he had done some really jerky things in his life, but I could see that there was a core of goodness in him. "I'm glad I gave you a chance."

"Give me one more chance tomorrow, and I'll prove that I'm not as awful as my reputation would have you believe." He nipped at my lower lip before kissing me insistently. His big hands glided down my back and cupped my bottom.

A frisson of wild delight coursed through me, and it took every ounce of my willpower to push him away. "I need to go. I'm running behind, and I have a lot of work to get done."

"Do you want me to help you?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes." He was absolutely sincere in his offer. "It's my fault you're late." He caressed my backside. "I can help you catch up."

"I appreciate the offer, but I can't risk it. My supervisor would write me up, and the hotel manager would have my ass."

"I'll break his arm if he gets anywhere near
my
ass." He gave my bottom a possessive squeeze that sent the most incredibly powerful and confusing thrill right through me. Was I really getting excited by this? The pulsing ache between my thighs confirmed that, yes, I was.

I closed my eyes as Step kissed my cheeks and throat. He kneaded my bottom and then gave it a soft swat. "You better get out of here while you can. I'm about five seconds away from throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you to bed."

I heeded his warning and scurried out of the bathroom. I could hear him moving around the bedroom while I finished packing up my cart. He emerged as I was pushing it toward the front door and trailed close behind. I had only taken three steps into the hall when he suddenly grabbed and spun me around before claiming another kiss, this one heated and frenzied.